Bloodstreaks
by Mischa Moretti
Summary: Post 3x22. Elena is now a vampire, but being the last Petrova doppelganger has its unknown, cursed consequences. 25 years later, only one Salvatore is willing to go that far to save her from herself and her newfound murderous tendencies.
1. Consumed

Post 3x22. Elena is now a vampire, but being the last Petrova doppelganger has its unknown, cursed consequences. 25 years later, only one Salvatore is willing to go that far to save her from herself and her newfound murderous tendencies.

AN: This is directly post 3x22 of the television series, so if you haven't caught up on the show, there will be spoilers! This is also probably the only chapter that will fully be in present time- everything else will be about the future. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries (TV show or books), so no copyright infringement is intended.

**Bloodstreaks  
**Chapter 1: Consumed

He knew that after 171 years, he should have learnt to have better control over his temper. He knew that everyone was expecting him to have matured, gotten a better grasp over his _emotions_, aged like fine wine, all that jazz. But this time, above all times, he felt that he had all the right in the world to chop someone's fucking head off.

Because this time, it was Elena.

He was not gentle when he brushed off Dr. Meredith Fell and burst through another set of sterile looking double doors that led him towards the morgue. He had processed what the kind doctor had said but he did not care. It didn't change anything really.

Little bro had still screwed up.

"Damon," a familiar, solemn voice reached his ears before he was even in the room- the room where her body lay. He was pretty sure he was seeing red now.

One glimpse at the table where her cold body remained lifeless and unmoving was all it took for him to vampire-speed towards Stefan, who had gotten up from his seat next to her still form, looking unsurprised to see him. In a second, Damon had thrown his anguished little brother up against the opposite wall, not surprised that Stefan wasn't defending himself.

If he knew his little brother, he was obviously drowning in a whole pool of guilt, self-loathing, and all things Stefan.

But he didn't care. He was just so angry.

The blind rage led the two brothers in a toss and tumble war that lasted all of five minutes, though it felt much longer for the both of them. And still, even as they lay sprawled on the ground, facing off, she laid still, in between them, a sign of failed promises.

"You promised," was all he could utter before a wave of sudden exhaustion hit him, cold blue eyes softening not from forgiveness, but from a sense of hopelessness.

Stefan's gaze dropped. What could he say?

A softer, more feminine voice was clearing her throat from the entrance to the refrigerated room. Meredith Fell stepped in slowly, uncertain if she was really safe in an enclosed room with two unstable vampires.

"Can you two take this outside?"

Damon glared at the woman, but felt something in him relent when he realized, whether it was a good thing or not, that Elena still had a second chance because of her somewhat psycho medical solutions. Without a word, he got up, brushed himself off, and turned to leave without giving Stefan a second look.

* * *

The images were blurry, but they were there. With a halo of light around everything, she was pretty sure she was in some sort of heaven.

"You want a love that consumes."

Damon?

She whirled around, certain that only a second ago that familiar presence of safety had been standing behind her. She reached out tentatively at the empty space before her as she stood on the side of the quiet street with only the sounds of night reaching her ears.

"I don't deserve you."

Suddenly, she was in her bedroom, hand at the base of her neck, feeling the familiar grooves of the necklace Stefan had given her. Her window was open, curtains fluttering gently in the evening breeze. The smells of clean laundry and aftershave lingered.

Her heart raced. She knew then, that these were not merely figments of her imagination after death had consumed her. These were memories.

And with that realization, she thought she was drowning all over again.

The icy coldness of the water racing in, filling her mouth and rushing into the hollows of her lungs. The feeling of someone's fangs sinking into her bare neck. The sensation of blood leaving her, slowly and steadily. The chafing of rope, so tight that the air she craved could not enter. The feeling of a cool blade at her wrist.

She gasped soundly, eyes flaring open to stare into a nothingness of stark white.

But quickly, her eyes adjusted, the white melted away into a mere light hanging above her, and she felt absolutely unwired.

The dampness of her hair sent chills down her back. The eerily lit room bothered her. The way she didn't have to breathe suffocated her.

She sat up more quickly than she realized she was capable of and was surprised when her world did not spin from dizziness. Her legs swung around the table almost mechanically, with a grace she was unaccustomed to.

Her bare feet hit the cold ground. Her head felt like it was being hammered relentlessly with some invisible force. She couldn't think.

One step, a second step, a couple more…out the doors. So quiet.

So cold.

Thump, thump, thump. Was that her heart or was that her head ready to explode?

So much chatter. So aggravating.

Phones were ringing, monitors abuzz, babies crying.

Thump, thump, thump.

This time, it felt different. More distant, something not within her. Her head snapped up towards the direction, and her wide, lost eyes fell on a familiar face currently on the phone, one hand busy recording something on a clipboard.

Meredith?

As if on cue, the doctor glanced in her direction from inside the office and she noticeably paused, eyes widening, falling into silence despite her phone call.

But it wasn't the surprised look on the doctor's face that concerned her. No, no it wasn't. It was that god awful loud thumping that seemed to grow louder and louder as she approached the office.

"Elena."

She was inside now, without even realizing where her feet had taken her. She noticed the doctor was scared, looking a bit pale, the thumping quickening deliciously.

Deliciously?

Her lips parted, and she was suddenly so aware of how dry they were and how dry her throat was. So dry.

"Elena," Meredith said her name again, this time more forcibly as if trying to snap her out of her lust.

"Meredith," was all she said before she felt her lips around a warm, pulsating neck and the sensation of absolute satisfaction filling her very soul.

"Elena!"

That voice. That smooth voice.

It took all the power within her to tear herself away from the glorious thick fluid beneath her, but it was that voice. _His _voice.

She looked up, and her eyes fell on not one, but two shocked looking Salvatores.

* * *

AN: Gosh haven't written anything in five years so sorry if I'm super rusty! This was super short but I promise the other chapters will be more lengthy and meaty! This fic will definitely be centered around Elena's strange spiral and new knowledge of her Petrova connections. Lots more D/E to come. Thank you for reading! Reviews always appreciated!


	2. First Kill

AN: Thank you for some of your feedback. You are all lovely and it is really helpful for me to know my readers' thoughts/suggestions! I'm not really following the show that closely, so please realize there may be some things I'm ignoring (such as Klaus, or Elijah etc).

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries (TV show or books), so no copyright infringement is intended.

**Bloodstreaks  
**Chapter 2: First Kill

** 2037**

Twenty-five years was a quarter of a century. Twenty-five years was a long ass time for a human being, maybe even for a witch. But twenty-five years for a vampire?

He glanced at his reflection from his hotel bathroom.

"Still looking fine," he muttered under his breath, a half-hearted smirk on his face as he shrugged on a black dress shirt to cover his bare and toned chest. He wasn't being cocky. It was just a simple fact that twenty-five years later, Damon Salvatore still looked every bit the lady's man that he was a quarter century ago.

He still looked every bit the man that had left Mystic Falls after realizing she wasn't coming back.

Turning off the tap, he padded into the adjoining bedroom and threw open the curtains. The sight of looming palm trees, a clear blue sky, and the distinct hum of constant traffic reassured him that he was here- the City of Angels.

"Hello LA," he murmured, loving the fact that he was definitely slowly going insane with all his self-directed conversations.

As if a certain blonde vampire was reading his mind, his phone started buzzing and he quickly snapped out of his mini daydream and sped to his phone, lying forgotten on his messy bed. He had company last night.

"Caroline," he greeted and immediately flinched when the hyperactive blond began to spew.

"Did you check out the club or not? I did not tell you about all this just so you could keep me out of the loop! Damon, if you're not serious-"

"Blondie, if I wasn't serious, who would be?" Damon cut in before he could stand any more nonsense scolding. He rolled his eyes and sighed, eyes already drifting to the bottle of bourbon by the hotel mini-bar. "I found her."

"You what?" Came another shriek and more rambling about how he should be more responsible with his information. Since when was he responsible?

He cleared his throat, ignoring her. "Well, not really yet. Just…your mom's friend was right. This was definitely her."

Caroline finally seemed to have calmed herself down on the other end and spoke softly now, "Oh."

"Yeah," was all Damon could really think of to say. He had nothing snarky or witty in response to his new revelations. Even though Sherriff Forbes had retired, she still had her friends at the station look out for suspicious kills. Suspicious, potential Elena kills.

As far as Caroline knew, this was the first time Damon had been close to even finding her. Little did she know that he had been following her trail for much longer.

He had actually lost her for a while, until Caroline texted him when he was in the middle of a 'woe-is-my-life' phase in Chicago about a kill in Los Angeles that resembled Elena's very first kill. That type of information was the only type of information that he didn't ignore.

And so here he was, at The Standard Hotel in downtown Los Angeles after visiting the crime scene last night and then finding himself some red-headed distraction on the corner of Spring and 4th street.

"Damon?" Caroline's voice broke his train of thought.

"I'm checking out the club tonight. Maybe she'll be there," he lied, as he knew better now than to have too much hope.

Caroline seemed convinced though, as her voice lightened, "Well, just call me when you find her!"

He tossed his phone back onto the bed before pouring himself a drink. Twenty-five years. He'd been chasing blood streaks on the mirrors for twenty-five years.

* * *

**Present time - 2012**

Before the two of them could even respond, she had sped out of the hospital in a blur of long dark hair. Stefan had rushed to Meredith's side, helping her up from her collapsed position in her office, hand at her neck, eyes wide.

Damon's own eyes looked slightly wild as he looked from the direction she had sped off to, to his brother who was now looking at him gravely.

"Damon," he started.

Damon's brow furrowed immensely as he held his hand up to stop his brother from talking. "I'll go after her."

Stefan looked as if he wanted to protest, but he knew that wild look in his brother's eyes. When Damon was set on doing something, he was set on doing it. It was one of those moments, where Stefan decided he had to let his brother wield the reigns.

"Call me," was all that he decided was appropriate to say at this point. Stefan also realized he had to do some compelling as he finally took note of all the shocked people standing near Meredith's office.

Damon just nodded, breaking into a light jog before breaking into full out vampire run when he was clear of onlookers. He stopped briefly at the parking lot, taking in the sounds, the smells, _her _smell.

His kind, compassionate Elena had just went after Meredith Fell with seemingly no remorse.

What on earth had happened in there? He just didn't understand. If Caroline of all people had managed to contain herself better post-transition, why was Elena suddenly the freaky, volatile baby vamp? It just didn't make sense.

His thoughts seemed so scattered but he knew he had to focus. Focus on finding her. Where would she go? Where did every newly turned vampire want to go?

_Home._

Damon cursed lightly under his breath. Hopefully that brother of hers who was never at the right place at the right time wasn't at home.

But he highly doubted his luck.

* * *

Elena Gilbert stood tentatively in front of the walkway to her childhood home. So familiar, so many memories. Home.

She licked her lips automatically, rewetting her blood-dried lips and feeling the metallic aftertaste of Meredith Fell. She felt a small shudder go through her body as she remembered the doctor's frightened eyes and pale visage.

She had become a scary, awful creature of the night.

She had hurt someone.

And while all this guilt started to overcome her, she felt something within her burn. An anger, hatred, pain, she didn't know why she felt this way. Elena took a few steps back. She felt so hungry still.

"Elena?"

The front door had opened, and there stood Jeremy.

Innocent, young brother of hers.

"Jer?" She heard her own voice, so uncertain and so scared.

Jeremy was looking at her with hesitation. His eyes were wide; he seemed alert, almost in a protective stance. He seemed to want to take a step outside, but stopped himself, narrowing his gaze.

"I saw Ric…" he started, confusion written all over his face though Elena knew her brother was putting together the pieces right then and there.

"He's dead," Jeremy concluded bluntly.

Elena didn't bother hiding it. She sped up to her brother, right at the doorframe when she felt it- the invisible force that kept uninvited vampires out. She was uninvited to her own home. Something in her sank a little further into despair.

Jeremy didn't budge, comprehension dawning on his face as he took a small step back. His eyes searched his sister's face, every bit of her, until resting on her still stained mouth.

"Elena…"

"Jer, let me in," she pleaded automatically, not really knowing why the words even left her mouth.

"I wouldn't hurt you," she continued, feeling pricks of warmth in her eyes. Tears? She sucked in a shaky breath and felt it all come crashing down on her. Tears.

Jeremy, at the sight of his distraught sister, felt his walls crumble. He reached out to her figure, frail and fragile looking. She was shaking with her sudden wave of sobs and he felt an overwhelming urge to comfort the only family he had left.

"Shhh, it's okay Elena," he took her in his arms. "Get in here, shhh."

The two tumbled in awkwardly, Elena still a shaking mess in his arms as he stroked back her messy hair from her tear-strewn face. "What happened Elena?"

"Wickery Bridge," Elena managed to say, her face buried in the nook of her little brother's shoulder. "Matt. Car accident…I fed."

Jeremy could barely understand his sister, but he could sort of piece together the words she was mumbling. All of a sudden, she pulled back, looking wildly around her.

"I hung myself!" She blurted out, hands reaching to her neck, grasping at some invisible rope that wasn't there.

Jeremy frowned in concern. "Elena…"

Elena's brow was furrowing in confusion. She was so confused. What were these memories flooding her mind? Her very soul felt like it was being pulled at all angles, in all directions. She wanted to burst.

"Elena!" Jeremy was backing away now. She hadn't even realized he had let go of her shaking body. "Your eyes."

She could feel it, the horrid veins slowly but surely appearing around her doe-like eyes.

"Jeremy. Where is your ring?" She asked in a dangerously steady voice despite the fact that she felt like every nerve in her body was about to snap.

"I-"

Too late.

* * *

When he was a block away from the Gilbert house, he had already smelt it. The distinct and welcoming smell of fresh, human blood hit his nostrils like an open invitation to a five star buffet. But for once in his life, the smell worried him.

The open door to the usually welcoming house sent his senses further into overdrive. He paused at the doorway, where blood was streaked on the wooden floor towards the staircase. Damon started cursing.

That damn Gilbert kid better be alive…

He was at the top of the staircase in an instance and it was there that he knew where the blood was coming from. The bathroom.

As he stepped in, knowing already that he would not find something he wanted to find, he was met with a sight that made his still heart sink. What on fucking earth?

He was met with his reflection, but it nearly caught him off guard as it looked as if blood was streaked down from his eyes to his face. It only took him a second to realize the blood wasn't actually on him, but on the bathroom mirror, precisely where someone's eyes would be if they stood in front of it- precisely where Jeremy's eyes would be had he been standing…and not sprawled on the tiled floor.

Damon knelt down slowly, examining the body as calmly as he could. He noticed Jeremy's fingers had blood on them, probably his own and probably the hands that streaked the mirror. But he was very much dead.

"Damon…"

His head snapped up at the scared voice. There she was, his scared, broken Elena, eyes wild, hair a mess. He was about to speed over to her when she shook her head profusely.

"Don't," she said with sudden found strength as she held out one hand. Damon looked at her incredulously. What was wrong with her?

She opened her extended hand, revealing that ugly piece of a family heirloom that Damon had been hoping was on one of Jeremy's fingers. Apparently not…

"I slipped it off Damon," she said hurriedly, pitch rising. "I slipped it off, so quickly, when he was holding me…I-slipped-it-off." She pronounced the last few words with such emphasis.

Damon was very aware of his situation right now; dead little kid beneath him, crazy love of his life in front of him, all making absolutely no sense.

"Elena, you need to calm down," he started, wanting nothing more than to be at her side, holding her small body against his and telling her that all the worries in the world would go away.

"I wanted to killed him."

"So I did."


	3. Shots, Shots, Shots

AN: Thank you for the lovely feedback! Really inspires me to keep at it =) Hope you all enjoy this slightly rowdier chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries (TV show or books), so no copyright infringement is intended.

**Bloodstreaks  
**Chapter 3: Shots, Shots, Shots

**Present time - 2012**

He was not too surprised by the words that left her blood-crusted mouth. No, any newly turned vampire was impulsive, volatile and a little bit crazy. But he knew Elena, understood her, sometimes he even felt like he could read her mind even when she had no idea what she was even thinking or feeling.

But her gaze…it was so empty.

"Elena," he started again and decided to fuck it. He sped up to her side and took her shaking hand in his and pulled her close, nearly knocking the wind out of her with his speed. He didn't mean to be rough, but she looked distant, perhaps from shock.

Her large eyes flickered to look at him, and he couldn't quite place why her gaze sent a familiar chill down his spine. She felt different as a vampire. Cold, of course, and less breakable, even though she seemed so tiny in his grasp. He looked down at her in half frustration and mostly concern.

"Damon," she seemed to be testing that name on her lips. He frowned slightly.

"Okay, enough with the crazy Elena," he tried to keep his cool, keeping his tone light despite the very grave situation at hand. The Elena he knew would not be able to live with herself now, not after killing Jeremy.

"You need to let me help you," he continued firmly, not letting go of her wrists.

She tilted her head slightly, her expression still indescribable, so alien to him as she was usually such an open book. Then, all of a sudden, she smiled at him.

"Do I really need your help, Mr. Salvatore?" She pulled back from him with surprising strength, her smile falling into a sort of wicked grin.

She tilted her chin upwards as she circled him slowly, as if eyeing prey.

Damon looked at her incredulously, wanting to throw his arms in the air in utter confusion as his blue eyes searched her familiar brown orbs in desperation. "Elena, what is going on?" He reached out to grab her again but she was immediately a blur.

His gaze snapped to her bed, where she was now propped up against her bed frame, teddy on her lap, a half bemused expression on her face.

"Gosh, so touchy we are today Damon," she drawled, and suddenly Damon couldn't help but stare.

"Katherine?" That would not make _any_ sense, but he couldn't help but wonder why the Elena sitting before him felt so damn familiar in an _unpleasant_ way.

Elena rolled her eyes, "You're thinking about Katherine right now? Really, Damon? After all that we've been through?"

Damon felt his head explode. He hated when he had no idea what was going on, and this night was starting to rank on his top 10 of what the fuck moments of the century.

"No Elena," he nearly snarled, he couldn't contain his own frustration. Wasn't he supposed to be comforting her right now? Wasn't she supposed to be distraught over her actions? "You need to snap out of it before I have to do something I'm going to regret later," he continued in exasperation, though he wasn't really sure what his plan was anyways.

Elena stuck out her lower lip. She was pouting. Why the fuck was she pouting?

"I've upset you?" She asked, even though Damon swore he'd break something if she was seriously asking that question. Then she looked towards the bedroom door. "He seems more upset though."

Damon quickly shifted his gaze and saw his little brother, all confused and horrified.

"Stefan," Damon started and then looked back at the Katherine-like Elena on the bed. "We need to knock her out or something."

"Jeremy," Stefan said, his green eyes flickering with emotion. "Did she…"

Damon threw his hands up in the air, frustration clearly written all over his face, "Yes, she did, and now I have no idea why she's acting this way but we need to do something _right now_."

"Jeremy!" Elena was suddenly off the bed now, standing in between the two brothers who were both watching her as if she were a ticking time bomb. Damon shot a look at Stefan, who looked back at his older brother uneasily, uncertainty set firmly in his gaze.

"Oh my god," Elena gasped, looking from Stefan, and then turning to Damon. She looked at him with this pleading look that almost broke his heart, if he really even had one.

"There's something wrong with me," she stated with a shaky breath.

"Elena, it's okay—"

Damon started towards her, but she gave him one last look before disappearing out the open window.

* * *

**2037**

That was the last time he had seen her, that look forever burned in his memory as if it were only yesterday. Then again, sometimes twenty-five years did feel like it was only yesterday.

After that night's incident, it was like the beginning of the end for the Scooby Gang. Bonnie was absolutely devastated when she found out about Jeremy's death…and what, or _who_, had caused it. When she had set things straight for Klaus and helped him out of his Tyler-body situation, she hightailed it out of Mystic Falls.

Damon had actually been sad to see her leave. Despite their differences, Witchy had been of use quite a few times. And when someone helped him out, he did remember it, even if he didn't show it at times, especially not towards a witch.

The Originals had scattered, seeing no reason to waste any more time in the godforsaken little town. They didn't even have time to go after a terse Rebekah when she realized how badly she had screwed up. Not that Vampire Barbie even had any remorse- just another oopsy to add to her little black book.

But thinking about two other people made him the most furious. How could she have just left? With no explanation? How could she have left him hanging, worried and wondering? As a vampire, all his compulsion would have worn off, and she would have known the truth and seen the humanity within him. But she hadn't sought him out. She just disappeared.

And Stefan. Thinking about his little brother made him suddenly feel like the almost 200-year-old vampire that he was. They had not parted on good terms. Even now, as Damon approached the loud music and heavy scent of human sweat, he felt anger well up inside him.

Stefan gave up on her. How could he give on his dear Elena? The Elena he had vowed to protect, the Elena that he had fought his base instincts for? Damon couldn't accept it, and still couldn't, but he was trying, every day.

He felt a firm arm block his way, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"ID?"

Damon raised an eyebrow and smirked before leaning close to the bouncer, "You will let me in, no questions asked."

"I will let you in," the bouncer repeated in a daze, stepping aside from his position by the club's entrance.

"Don't mind if I do," Damon gave him a mini salute before heading in. What was this place called again? Lusty's? Lusty Chicks or something? He rolled his eyes to himself and wondered why on earth Elena would have found her latest victim in such a…cozy little joint, to put it lightly.

"Classy," he muttered, as he slid past a couple gyrating up against the wall. Maybe he was just jealous. He wouldn't mind doing some heavy rubbing up against action with his favorite olive-skinned girl.

The venue was smoky and loud, and for any new vampire, this place would have been an open feast. Tangy sweat in the air, so many hearts racing, so many clueless humans wasting their lives away to booze and drugs. Then again, he had to remind himself that Elena was no new vampire anymore.

Somehow she had managed to stay alive for a quarter of a century, which was a good sign he hoped.

He found the bar swiftly and slid onto an open barstool near the corner. The bartender was a cute blonde girl in her twenties with a cute little nose piercing. _Kasey_, he glanced at her nametag. If this was going to turn out to be a failed night, he knew where he'd find some company.

"What's your drink?" She shouted at him from the other end of the bar where she was currently pouring a row of tequila shots.

"Just your best whis-," he paused, reconsidering, "Actually, a shot of tequila."

"Petrone?"

"Silver," he answered, taking a quick sweep of his fellow bar mates. Nothing of interest really registered with him.

Kasey was in front of him in a minute, sliding him a shot glass with a flirty smile and twinkle in her eye. "Never seen you around before."

"Just visiting," he answered, downing his drink and ignoring the lime.

"Oh?" She bit her lip slyly before leaning in closer from the other side of the bar. "This one's on me. You look lonely."

"Ouch," he feigned a look of hurt before shooting the hopeless bartender his most charming grin. She was definitely going to be an easy snack. "Careful Kasey," he pronounced her name with extra emphasis. "You're playing with fire."

"I like a little danger," she teased, starting to turn away just to show him a glimpse of her bareback.

"Hey, wait," he started and she seemed almost a bit too excited to have his attention again. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and continued on grinning. "Have you seen anyone suspicious around here? A girl? Around 18?"

Kasey's expression immediately fell and she almost scowled, "Really? You want to look for minors at a club? Creep-y!"

Damon didn't hide his annoyance as he leaned over the bar himself and captured her gaze. "Have you seen a girl around 5'6", olive-skin, large Bambie-like eyes with long, silky smooth hair that looks a lot better than your cheap, blonde dye job?"

Kasey looked at him blankly before nodding. "You mean Elaine? Yeah, she's right there," she pointed in a direction behind him.

He nearly fell off his stool with how fast he spun around in his seat. He followed the general direction of Kasey's finger and nearly lost his breathe if he had even been trying to take one.

There she was, in all her gorgeous glory, of course having not aged a day and maybe even aged a little backwards in terms of attitude. What was this, Girls Gone Wild?

She was on stage, shaking her hips left and right, arms in the air, head whipping back and forth. Her high ponytail swayed with her as she paused to pour a shot into someone's mouth directly from a bottle before giving a loud whoop as the men below her cheered and tried to get her attention.

And what was she wearing? A leather bustier thing that hugged her every curve and booty shorts that made her legs look like they would keep going on for miles. He had to have had the most willpower in the world to look away, but he knew he needed more answers.

"Does Elaine," he tested the name awkwardly, "work here?"

Kasey looked a little confused. "Actually, I don't think so…" she seemed even more confused by her answer. "Huh, dunno, she's here sometimes I guess. Boss is super nice to her."

Damon finally dropped his gaze and Kasey fell back a step, blinking rapidly. "Thanks Kasey, you've been a real darling."

The bartender gave him a smile, "I'm nice to cute guys!"

Damon left her a big tip before hopping off his stool to slither into the dancing crowd in front of the stage. He half-heartedly danced his way amongst the gross, sweaty people, but he was on a mission so a little gross human sweat was unavoidable. As he neared the stage, neared _her_, he looked up, willing her to see him.

And she did.

Her eyes met his steady, unwavering gaze and she stopped moving, an unreadable expression on her petite, oval face.

He felt his lips curl into a smile small. It always surprised him how just seeing her could lift his spirits. He didn't know anyone else in the world that could make him feel this way, this lighthearted amongst the chaos that was his usual life.

* * *

AN: Reunion time? Finally some D/E interaction? Who knows! I will definitely reveal more info about Elena's little curse issue and her crazy behavior by Chapter 4, so just hang tight ;) Let me know what you think and have a lovely start of the week everyone!


	4. Insanity 101

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries (TV show or books), so no copyright infringement is intended.

**Bloodstreaks  
**Chapter 4: Insanity 101

He had all of eternity to just stand there. Time was one of the few gifts bestowed upon him and his undead state and right now, he could literally feel every second slide by like droplets of blood trickling down a very parched throat. Seeing her quenched his undying thirst to feel something- anything.

She was ignoring the sudden boos from below her. The humans were agitated that their entertainment and booze had stopped. She didn't seem to notice though. She only saw him.

"Get up here," she mouthed, her eyes sparkling.

Damon felt his lips slide to the side in a small, amused expression. "No, you come down here," he mouthed back.

Elena seemed to give his silent words some consideration before she gracefully slid off the stage, moving fluidly between the throng of people separating them. Before he could really register it, she was standing before him, a soft scent permeating through the disgusting smells of human. It was the scent of honey and something floral.

His lips parted to say something; he had imagined this moment for years, and now the time had come and he was absolutely wordless. Uncertain. Too many questions.

"Shhh," she held up a finger to his lips, brushing against them softly before crashing her own lips against his, no hesitation.

If any words had finally formed in his brain, they sure as hell just escaped him all over again. He felt her moist lips against his, the aftertaste of tequila mixing with a sweep of her tongue against his teeth. This felt so familiar, and just so damn right. Just like the old days, when his Elena was still that little, pent up ball of human hormones outside that motel in Denver. But this time, it was only certainty. Both knew this was okay, this was right.

His arms felt their way to her waist, under her shirt. Breathlessly they were suddenly hitting the wall on the other side of the room, away from the dance floor. The fog machine had started and the blur of two vampires seemed to go unnoticed in the crowd of fist pumping and hip swaying. She pushed against him, their bodies flying into a secluded hallway near the fire exit, but lips never parting, bodies never untangling.

She gasped slightly beneath his chest as their hearts raced. His eyes darted to her very much exposed cleavage. She licked the tip of one of his now visible fangs and then slowly pulled back, looking up at him with those warm eyes that he had missed too much.

"Elena," he breathed, surprised by his own voice and the way it seemed to drip with desire. It was too hard to hide it. He was so angry with her, for leaving him in such confusion, yet right now, all he could feel was passion for the one girl he was certain he loved and would never stop loving.

She smiled then and shook her head in a sly manner. "Oh Damon, you're still so easy to fool."

His eyes immediately darkened and he was now the one pushing their bodies to the opposite side of the empty hallway, hand at her throat.

"Katherine."

* * *

He couldn't stop pacing back and forth in the ridiculously large hotel suite of the historic Roosevelt Hotel that was of course very fitting for the spoiled vampire he was currently stuck in the room with. He didn't really want to be here, but she had the information he wanted- or so she claimed.

Katherine was watching him, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she tipped back her glass of 6'1" handsome model man from the hotel pool, still a little warm. "Oh Damon, stop pacing, you'll get carpet burn."

Damon ran a hand through his unruly dark hair, giving his daylight ring a little twist as he stopped abruptly in front of his ex-lover, aka the woman who tore his heart into a billion pieces and then some. "Okay, can you just rewind—"

Katherine sighed as if her patience was running thin, uncrossing her legs slowly. Damon knew she was pulling her usual tricks, and he too did not have the patience right now. "Katherine—"

"Okay, geez Damon," she placed her glass down next to her and smiled shortly. "No need to get all frustrated with me. I'm your friend," she paused as her smile widened. "Unless you want something more."

Damon rolled his eyes before throwing a smirk at her, "Okay, I get that you're super horny right now but all I care about is why you're pretending to be Elena and dancing around at a sleazy club. It's a little desperate, even for you Katherine."

The older vampire frowned, "Why are you so mean?"

"Why are you avoiding my questions?" He shot back.

Katherine finally sighed and threw a lazy hand out in front of her to check the tips of her fingernails, inspecting them for any sign of imperfection. Once pleased, she spoke again, this time her voice without a hint of flirtation, "I've been following her."

Damon's brow furrowed in confusion as he stared incredulously at the woman before him, "You've been what?"

Katherine shrugged casually, "Yeah, I mean, remember our little phone conversation twenty-five years ago post-dead-Jeremy?"

Damon nodded, not too keen on stirring up those memories.

"You said you thought dearest, loving Elena was acting a bit too much like moi," Katherine smirked, "which I thought would have been a _huge_ improvement. But you didn't sound all that pleased, and honestly, I was a little curious as to what you meant even though I sounded like I didn't give a crap about you and Stefan's lover problems."

"Right," Damon responded dryly. "You told us it was not your problem."

"Which it really still isn't," Katherine emphasized. "So you should really thank me for being such a good snoop."

Damon raised an eyebrow, "Right. If you really have any sort of valuable information."

"Oh, of course I do," Katherine responded, her voice now dancing, her eyes lighting up. "You should know me by now, always the useful little detective, at your service."

"You told me you had no idea why she was acting that way," Damon cut in, slightly annoyed at their roundabout banter.

"Well, I didn't back then. But after I talked to her—"

"You actually spoke to her?" Damon's attention was suddenly 100% on the evil bitch sitting so bemused in her little armchair. He really wanted to wipe that smile off her face, but she had, had contact with _her_.

"As I was saying," Katherine took another sip from her glass, "after I spoke to her somewhere in Atlanta, she was acting all crazy and distraught and I basically thought she had finally lost it from being pulled in both directions between you two Salvatore brothers."

Damon shot her a glare.

"But alas, it really had nothing to do with the two of you at all," Katherine finished cheerily. "She was straight up seeing things, feeling things…things that weren't her."

"What do you mean?" Damon was now right in front of the older vampire, hands resting on either side of her chair and leaning dangerously close. She was purposefully leaking him bits and pieces and he was growing impatient. He just needed to find Elena, to see her.

"You weren't that far off when you said she was acting like me," Katherine responded, suddenly looking very serious, smile off her face. "She could tell me things about my life that I had never told anyone else during my time on this earth. She could tell me in such detail…" she looked away from Damon's prying gaze, a slightly sad shadow passing through her usually confident eyes. "She could tell me how it felt. It was like…she was me, through and through."

Damon didn't know what to say. His thoughts were racing, his mind unable to form a proper conclusion. Katherine noticed this and stood up so that their noses were almost grazing. "But of course, she wasn't me, because I'm still here," she placed a finger at his chest and pushed him back slightly so she could walk around him. She needed a drink, something less bloody, more alcoholic.

As Katherine was pouring herself a glass of amber liquid from the wet bar**,** Damon couldn't help but let his forehead wrinkle in utter confusion. His immediate response was to say the bitch was lying, as usual. But somehow, her words felt reasonable. What was the point for Katherine to lie about this? Besides, the vampire probably hated the fact that someone else could really know her inner feelings. She wouldn't let this be known fact unless it was true and she needed to figure out why.

"You're awfully quiet," Katherine broke his train of thought, reappearing in front of him, offering him a glass as well. He took it swiftly.

"So you're saying, Elena is suddenly like, the Katherine-whisperer," Damon concluded skeptically and felt slightly insane himself once the words left his mouth.

"She also mentioned Tatia," Katherine continued. "You remember her? The Original brothers telling you about the originator of the Petrova line that they both pined over?"

Damon nodded, remembering.

"Well, it just seems like she's all sorts of Petrova now," Katherine finished, downing her drink in one throwback of her glass and shooting him a dazzling smile. "And that's all I know and I think that's enough about Elena. I'm bored already."

Damon frowned, moving towards her, too many thoughts clouding his mind. "You're not telling me everything," he growled under his breath.

"Please, I don't really care about hiding any information from you, Damon. I just think we haven't spent any quality time together in a while—"

"Why did you continue to follow her all these years? How come I haven't run into you when I was on her trail too? Why didn't we just—"

"What? Work as a team?" Katherine looked like she wanted to snort. "Save Elena! Ra, ra, ra!" She rolled her eyes. "Oh Damon, you know I'm good at making myself known only when I want to be known. Besides, I just wanted to keep tabs on her because she makes me feel a little…vulnerable now, actually," she bit her lip, looking concerned. "I don't like it that she knows _me_."

"And all your evil, demonic thoughts?" Damon smirked.

Katherine gave him a dirty look. "If you must think so lowly of me. Anyways, her situation interests me. It's hard to find something that interests me these days."

"Then why are you making yourself known now, Katherine?" Damon hissed, taking a few steps closer to ensure that he was now physically towering over the svelte vampire before him.

Katherine smirked up at him in response, "Ah, finally asking the right questions Damon. Perhaps Elena should learn from you."

"Katherine," Damon repeated, impatience laced thickly in his tone.

"Fine," she tilted her head slightly, crossing her arms protectively in front of her tiny waist. "A little snooping might have told me that the Originals are in town, and I need you to go meet up with them."

"What?" Damon gave the woman a look of disbelief. "Like I would help you!"

"Ah-uh, Damon, you'd be helping your beloved Elena," Katherine reminded with a raised finger before she leaned closer towards him. "I'm pretty sure little Elena being in town at this time is no coincidence. There's a meeting going down, and I, being not on such great terms with these elitist freaks, really, _really_ would like to know what they're going to be talking about."

Damon opened and closed his mouth, not very sure what snide remark he should make about how no way in hell he would help the she-devil in front of him, yet simultaneously his mind was screaming _Go!_

The next words that left his mouth didn't really surprise either of them.

"When are they meeting?"

Katherine gave him a satisfied smile. "This I don't know yet, but come on! We can totally figure this whole thing out. Team Us!" She gave him a half-hearted cheer.

Damon rolled his eyes, gaze filling with distrust, "What's in it for you?"

"What can I say," Katherine gave him a half shrug, shifting her weight to one heel, "Mild curiosity? Shameless prying? I guess…this problem hits close to home," the other vampire revealed with surprising honestly. Damon's glare fell and he simply watched her.

"If I had to bet on what's going on, I'd say this has a little mixture of witchy magic, Petrova blood and maybe a dash of simple insanity," Katherine concluded before continuing, "And I just need to make sure that whatever goes down doesn't screw me over in some weird bloodline witchy magic way."

Damon snorted, his expectations met. Of course Katherine was looking out for herself. He put down his drink and grabbed his leather jacket that had been thrown carelessly on the king size bed. "Of course," he muttered, sliding his jacket on. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go do some co-snooping."

Katherine gave him a coy smile, "I like what I hear."

"Please, I'm doing this for Elena," Damon retorted icily, before heading towards the suite's double doors.

* * *

She was gazing intensely, head tilted up as if shooting daggers through the window she was trying to peer through. The sounds of Hollywood bustling behind her and the hum of street vendors fluttered to her ears. The curtains were moving gently as the breeze snuck in through the slightly open window she was looking at. Their voices carried easily to her alert ears. She tucked a strand of straight, chestnut hair behind her ear out of old habit, allowing a small frown to appear on her face.

What was her doppelganger thinking? Telling Damon so much? She hadn't spoken to her usually more evil lookalike in a long, long time and was surprised Katherine had even managed to follow her to Los Angeles _and _even knew about her impending meeting with Elijah.

Damon was specifically one of the main people she did not want knowing that she was slowly spiraling into some sort of tri-polar personality craziness. She honestly didn't even know what to call it herself, but she sure as hell didn't want the people that she cared about most near her.

She still couldn't control it, whatever _it_ was that brewed within her. Sometimes it felt like she had everything under control. Her head would be clear, her thoughts her own, her memories vividly very much Elena Gilbert's. But suddenly, all of it would just melt away, as if her very soul would extinguish and the rush of hate would fill her.

Then, she would want to kill. No mercy, no conscience, just kill.

She would always see that familiar face, identical to her own yet so very different in disposition- _Tatia, _perhaps_. _Those bloodshot eyes filled with such emotion, her hands reaching towards the mirror as if hoping to claw her own eyeballs out of their sockets. But her fingers would always be drenched in blood, leaving streaks of blood running down her reflection's face.

And every time she saw this woman appear in her mind, this woman that she knew was very much a part of her, she would snap, be lost in fury, and people would die.

Elena Gilbert gave one last look upwards, as if hoping that if she stared intensely enough he would somehow appear by the window, just to give her a little glimpse of him.

He did not appear by the window though, and it hit her then that this was not some fairytale story where miracles and great timing happened. This was the very grim reality of her life, where castles were replaces by the occasional three star hotel with the complimentary breakfast coupons. Where the horse-drawn carriage was the smelly cab with suspicious stains on the backseat. Where her ladies in waiting, or prince charming even, were replaced by broken bodies twisted and torn by her very own hands.

Elena Gilbert felt a sad smile tug at her lips as she reflected on how drastically different her life had turned out compared to how she had envisioned it would be once upon a time; Matt Donovan and the white picket fence and a huddle of children. Elena Gilbert gave one last rueful look at the hotel window before letting herself disappear back into the shadows.

_ Please don't come looking for me._

* * *

AN: I guess I lied about a D/E reunion for this chapter! But Team Datherine or Kamon (whatever they're called) are closing in! Hopefully this wasn't too confusing and if you can all remember Tatia Petrova from the Originals briefly mentioning her in Season 3 as the Original Petrova whose blood was used in sealing the hybrid curse. More reveals in Chapter 5- I promise! Please R/R, much love!


	5. Into the Woods

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries (TV show or books), so no copyright infringement is intended.

**Bloodstreaks  
**Chapter 5: Into the Woods

The smell of forest and mud was thick in the air as the rain came down in sheets. The whistle of wind was high pitched and hollow, sending chills down the spine of anyone listening. Yet despite the torrential weather outside, the sound of fire crackling and the dancing of flames against the small hut's walls were heartwarming and maybe even romantic.

She gasped in passion underneath the stronger body against her, his chest so perfectly chiseled against her small hands, nails digging in ever so slightly. He was moving at a steady rhythm, his own breath harsh against her ear, beads of sweat intermingling. She felt amazing.

A distant howl pierced the night, and now it was another day.

This time, it was foggy, and her feet were bare as she ran and ran. Her vision was blurred, perhaps by the tears threatening to spill over the rim of her large, almond-shaped eyes. She let out a small yelp when she nearly tripped over a branch, but she quickly regained her balance as she pushed past a low hanging fern and into a clearing where a few homes stood. It was so quiet.

She ran into one of these dwellings, pushing past the familiar hanging canopy that shielded the residents of the home from the harsh temperaments of nature. It was empty, as she had expected, but her heart still raced as if it were trying to escape her very own chest.

She stopped short in front of a makeshift mirror, a piece of broken reflective surface of some cooking utensil that no longer served its purpose. She could see her reflection from it, blurry and marred but very much her face, wide eyed, frightened, and absolutely mad.

A shuddering cry of agony escaped her frail body as shivers overtook her entire form. She brought her two hands forward to stare at all the blood. _So much blood._

She cried out in pain that was not physical, but something much deeper, ripping at her heart, her mind, her soul. Her hands went to her face, brushing away the tears but they simply would not stop coming. The blood from her hands mixed with the droplets of pure anguish as she threw the reflective surface aside as if repulsed by her very own reflection.

"_Tatia_!"

* * *

Elena felt her eyelids fly open as she sat up from bed, sweat beading on her forehead, making strands of her hair lie mat on her head. She looked around her, as if expecting to find herself still in that shabby little hut surrounded by looming trees, but no, she was here alone at Motel 56 with the ugly paisley colored bed sheets and clashing mint colored walls.

That dream_- again_.

She was having it more and more frequently lately, and it was becoming more and more vivid. At the beginning, she would only dream of the trees, the nature, the sweet clarity of pure, fresh air. Now, the dreams were longer, much more real and disturbing. It bugged her to no end. It bugged her so much that she had finally decided to do something about it, such as seek out her favorite Original.

She swung her legs out of bed and crossed the room to the small desk in the room where her laptop lay open. Sitting down, she clicked on the little mail icon and sighed with relief when she saw that she had one unread message.

_Elena, we will meet as previously arranged. Please be by the Venice Beach pier at ten past midnight. –E_

She leaned back in her uncomfortable wooden seat and let the information sink into her mind. Elijah was still very much Elijah with his overly exact meeting times. She bit her lip, anxiety rising within her yet renewed resolve also bubbling at the surface. She would finally, hopefully, have some answers. Maybe, just maybe, she would finally have her sanity back.

Elena vampire-sped to the mini fridge and pulled out a blood bag of B+. She felt a small smile grace her lips when she thought about her longtime best friend Caroline Forbes who had once told her it was her favorite blood type. She popped the bag open and took a deep sip, feeling her shoulders sigh in relief as her hunger was satiated.

She missed them all so much.

Caroline. Matt. Bonnie. Tyler.

Jeremy.

She chocked slightly mid-sip and felt it all over again. Such pain. Whoever had said that the humanity switch was easy to turn off was a big fat liar. She had struggled and struggled and every time she had thought she could feel no more, it was like a sudden rush of emotions full force, even worse than before.

She closed her eyes, taking a breath, refocusing her mind. Stefan.

A wistful look fell on her face. Her old love. The one who had decided she was not capable of being saved. She had become everything he loathed in a vampire. Reckless killing, bloodlust, bringer of all that was doom and gloom.

And Damon.

She felt as if her heart was quickening, except she knew deep down that wasn't even possible as she was very much dead. Well, if it were possible to feel her heart racing, it would be now. He was here, in the same city, so close.

But she was so scared. Damon would be absolutely furious with her for having just left Mystic Falls. Yet at the same time, she knew he cared. He had followed her after all, for a long, long time until she had made her trail a bit more difficult to trace five years back.

And now, after her little Los Angeles slip up, he was right here again. Ready to give her a chance, no matter how badly she may have hurt him.

But she wasn't ready. She didn't have control yet. The rage and evil that would creep up inside of her would blind her and she would not be able to tell right from wrong, enemy from friend. She could hurt him.

And she couldn't bare the thought of it, losing another loved one, at her own hands no less. The thought sent her mind reeling and she knew that she couldn't risk it. Not yet.

_ Ding!_

Her head shot up at the surprising sound of a new email. She sped to her laptop again, staring at the one new message in curiosity.

_Elena, Elena, come out to play! –K_

Elena sighed. Katherine. Apparently the older vampire still wasn't going to give up on her shameless snooping. Elena glanced at the small, round lapis ring on her index finger and knew she had Katherine to thank for her daylight ring, but right now, she didn't need two people from her past trailing her right when she was about to get some answers.

Without hesitation, she hit delete and watched as the message disappeared. This was not their battle to fight. If Elena Gilbert had been stubborn pre-vampire, she was a hell of a lot more stubborn now.

* * *

"I'm pretty sure she's not going to respond, but I guess it was worth giving it a shot," Katherine's voice rang out from the adjoining bedroom as he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"I like what I see," Katherine's voice was suddenly closer as she had appeared at the bathroom door in an instance with a seductive little smile dancing on her lips.

Damon rolled his eyes at her and pushed past his maker, not being gentle as their shoulders hit and sent her stumbling a bit to the side. She scowled at him and he could almost feel her glare burning the back of his head.

"You were such a gentleman before Damon. Honestly, I don't know what happened."

"_You_ happened," Damon responded, feigning an amused voice as he threw on his usual ensemble of black V-neck and dark jeans. "You just ruin and maim everything that you touch," he teased, no remorse in his tone.

"Still so bitter," Katherine grumbled. "_So _not fun."

"You said you had a backup plan?" Damon continued, ignoring the usual pitfall of Katherine-induced bantering. He was usually all up for it when he had nothing else to do, but right now he was on a super important Elena-seeking mission. He hadn't felt so determined and so close to the prize in a long time. He wasn't about to let Katerina Petrova and her hormones get in the way.

Katherine seemed to finally relent on her seduce-Damon plan and finally slinked her way back to the computer in the room. Instead of taking a seat at the desk, she leaned over across the chair to look at the computer screen, making sure she was giving the younger vampire a nice view of her backside.

"Craigslist!" Katherine declared with a flourish of her wrist as she stood aside for Damon to look at the screen.

He joined her at the desk with a raised eyebrow. "Craigslist is your backup plan? Really?" His tone was dripping with disbelief and slight impatience.

Katherine rolled her eyes at him and moved the mouse to hover over a specific listing. "You know Originals and there little ring of minions love sending obscure little messages through Craigslist. I learnt this from Rose way back when she was well, still alive. Anyways, I decided to give it a shot and I actually got one sane response."

Damon gave her a look that told her to elaborate.

"One of the Originals' groupies responded saying that there are rumors that something might be going down tonight by the Venice Beach Pier."

"This could be a trap for you, Katherine," Damon pointed out mockingly.

"And that's why I didn't say it was me, Damon," she shot back with a glint in her eyes. "The ad says you're seeking him out. See," she pointed to the bolded text on the screen. "_Uno Salvatore brother seeking Original sex_. I thought I was being clever. Maybe Rebekah will even respond herself." Katherine shot him an amused expression.

"_Seriously_?" Damon furrowed his brow profusely.

"Oh, Damon, it worked didn't it? You're welcome!"

Damon felt like he was rolling his eyes more than usual, but he couldn't help feeling constantly exasperated around Katherine. Her plans were always just so…_so him_. Sometimes it bothered him that they were both equally so brash in their ways, but when it came to getting what they wanted, they were both pretty decent at playing the game, no matter how dirty it got.

"Well, let's get going then," Damon made a shooing motion with his hands towards the door. He'd give it to Katherine this time. They might actually be on the right trail.

"Already ahead of you!"

And she was a blur of curly brown locks and leather pants.

* * *

Elena ran a hand through her silky hair absentmindedly, other hand rummaging through her bag to hand the street vendor three dollars for a bottle of coconut water, which was apparently oh-so-hip right now in Los Angeles. She wondered what city she would be in next after this whole ordeal, but she would definitely miss the City of Plastic Barbies and Smog.

She felt pretty clearheaded right now, which was a nice change for once. Usually, her mind was filled with a handful of conflicting emotions, resulting in huge migraines and just absolute frustration. The sun was starting to set across the Pacific and beachgoers had thinned out, leaving only couples taking romantic strolls and the occasional runner.

She was early for the meeting between Elijah and herself, but she had decided to scope out the area. Venice Beach was a quaint little neighborhood with a mixture of retired folks and hipsters selling cannabis. She had dressed to fit the part of laidback Californian girl, a simple lavender tank top half-tucked into denim shorts. Onlookers just thought she was any ordinary 18-year-old girl with a whole life ahead of her and big dreams.

Oh, how little they knew.

"Stop being so annoying."

That voice. It echoed clearly to her ears amongst the throng of other seaside sounds and mumble jumble of human voices. But this one was a familiar non-human voice that used to –still- send tingles down her spine. She scanned her surroundings.

"Why can't we make this more fun? You're being all intense."

Katherine. Elena's eyes locked on two figures in the distance, coming her way. She would have been able to recognize them anywhere; one a spitting image of herself and the other her reason for existence for the past 25 years. Right, of all people, living and undead, Damon Salvatore had ended up being her sole salvation during her darkest times. The thought of seeing him again, the thought of finally letting her feelings for him consume her, no hesitation. Grasping at all of that had somehow kept her sane despite all the insanity.

But right now was not a good time. Elena retreated into a nearby souvenir shop that was selling tacky tourist T-shirts and fridge magnets. She kept her senses alert. The two of them were obviously not here by coincidence, and she couldn't help but give credit to Katherine for being able to find her way here.

"Did that Marcus guy even give you a time?" Damon's voice sounded accusing and impatient.

"I already told you, no," Katherine sighed, irritation laced in her tone. "And that's why we're here so darn early. It's not because I like watching seagulls, Damon."

"I thought you'd like these cute little round balls of disease," Damon chided.

The two continued to see who could annoy the other more, and for a second Elena thought she was back at the old Salvatore boarding house, when she was still such a naïve, little human with everyone else's worries set before her own. She was almost losing herself in thought when an unfamiliar voice broke through the other two vampires' banter.

"Here for Elijah?"

"Marcus?"

There was silence and Elena assumed that there was a nod being exchanged. She wanted to step outside to get a better view but it would risk exposure. She held her ground, slightly frustrated. Why were they getting into this mess? She knew the answer, but chose to ignore that pesky inner voice.

She couldn't hear anything anymore. They had moved elsewhere. Where?

Elena sighed, worry starting to take over all her other feelings right now as she stepped out of the shop and back onto the boardwalk. She scanned it up and down but saw no one. Her lips twisted in a slight downwards direction as she started walking, not really sure where she was supposed to go…

"_Damon!_"

Katherine's voice was raised. She was scared, surprised at least. Elena spun around on her feet, looking desperately for the source of their voices. They were in trouble.

"Behind you!"

"Katherine, I can't believe you dragged me into this!"

"You know I didn't have to force you!"

A grunt. Something being smashed against a wall.

"Katerina Petrova? Klaus said to give you a warm welcome to Los Angeles."

That stranger's voice again, Marcus was it? Elena scowled. The crashing of the ocean waves, the gawking of the seagulls, the hum of people. She had to focus.

"_See_! I told you this was a trap!"

"Well, I guess that's why I brought your ass along. Backup!" Katherine hissed in response.

"We're outnumbered."

"I'm older, I can take them."

Them? There was more than one? Elena's brow furrowed as she quickened her steps. Elijah wouldn't send these men. It wasn't really his style, and it was still way earlier than midnight.

More sounds of struggle. Another pained grunt. Someone had fallen. Elena quickened her steps and found herself stopping at the entrance to an alleyway. She was almost 100% certain they were somewhere down this path.

She hesitated. Damon. Was she really going to let herself be near him right now? What if something went wrong? What if the absolute calm she was feeling earlier snapped and she would go back to being engulfed by blind hate and rage? She would snap his neck without hesitation, maybe even drive a stake through his heart.

"Damon!" Katherine's voice was very shrill now. Fear. It was all fear in her voice.

That was all it took for Elena to vampire-speed her way down the darkened alleyway towards a set of dumpsters. That was when she saw a heavyset male vampire around 6'2" looming over Damon, who was on the ground, bracing himself for his impending doom as the butch vampire before him had a makeshift stake in hand.

Before anyone on the scene could realize what was happening, Elena found herself zipping over to another broken piece of wood lying precariously on the ground and stabbing the thing into the other vampire's back. The broad-shouldered vampire slumped to the ground instantly, veins creeping up his neck, skin turning an ashen grey.

She was met with a wide-eyed set of cobalt blue eyes that were giving her the most intense stare of disbelief.

"Elena?"

She stumbled back a few steps, turning to look at Katherine who had pulled herself up from the ground, hand pressed at an injury on her arm, looking at Elena cautiously. Then she turned her attention back to the still stunned Salvatore beneath her as she nodded, knowing she couldn't run now.

"Hi," was all she could really say.

* * *

AN: Woot woot, reunion time! Thank you all for reading and please let me know your thoughts/feelings :) I'd love to hear from you all!


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